


Unusual Circumstances

by SweetVennum64



Category: Leverage
Genre: Angst, Consent Issues, Couch Cuddles, Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, One Shot, Prescription Drug Use, Threesome - F/M/M, Trigger Warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:55:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22942126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetVennum64/pseuds/SweetVennum64
Summary: Under normal circumstances, Eliot wouldn't allow himself this kind of bliss...
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer, Sophie Devereaux/Nathan Ford
Comments: 6
Kudos: 125





	Unusual Circumstances

**Author's Note:**

> ***WARNING***  
> Depending on the reader, the use of prescription drugs/issue of consent in this story could be triggering. Please proceed with caution.

Under normal circumstances, Eliot would _never_ let this happen.

They were on a job and somehow ended up on the roof of a three story building with Hardison hacking the security system, and Parker setting up the rigs for their escape. He didn't catch the guard heading for Hardison until it was almost too late and by the time he'd noticed, he hadn't had time to think or hesitate. He'd just run as fast as he could, screaming for Hardison to _move_ just in time for him to take a diving leap at the man, sending them both off the side of the building before he'd ever had a chance to put a hand on his crew.

He doesn't know when it happened. When he realized that these people would be the people he will die for. It was like a weight being lifted off of his shoulders with this revelation. They'd given his life purpose again, they'd given him something to be proud of.

Before this, joining the army felt more like fate than it did a choice. Deep down, he'd always been a protector so when he'd made that vow to his government he didn't think twice about it.

But somewhere on the road to intentional good deeds, Eliot got sidetracked, started to see the dirtier, grimier part of life. He'd witnessed the things his commanding officers did for power, the blood they were willing to spill for money. And he was sworn to silence. Letting the sins of men who were supposed to protect him eat at him and turn him raw.

His life was a slippery slope after he left the army. He'd easily and seamlessly moved on from killing for his country to killing for Moreau. His heart was cold by then. He no longer saw himself as a person, but as a tool, only to be used for destruction.

Being with the crew, though, made him feel slightly more human. And over time this crazy group of people thawed out his dead heart until he could almost feel it beating again. He means something to these people and his body is used to _protect_ them rather than _destroy._

He hadn't known it would go this far. At first, protecting them was a form of redemption for him so that maybe, one day, he could look at himself in the mirror again without feeling sick to his stomach. Somewhere along the line, he let them become more. _Mean_ more to him.

He watched as Nate and Sophie danced around one another, slowly inching closer and closer to that normal life they both longed for but never had the guts to say out loud. And then when they'd finally gotten their shit together and bid their goodbyes to the rest of the crew, Eliot watched Parker and Hardison do the same dance.

It was inevitable. They both were so innocent in their own way. Hardison so willing to cut his own chest open and hand out pieces of his heart to them. Parker so naïve yet so sharp it was scary. Eliot saw it coming from a mile away.

They were supposed to get together. Move away and live normal lives like Nate and Sophie had done. And Eliot would be left alone again. _Alone, alone, alone._ He repeated over and over in his head as he watched his people, his life, float away from him.

But things didn't go exactly the way Eliot had planned.

The closer Parker and Hardison got to each other, the tighter they held on to him like they thought he would just up and disappear. How do they not know that he would _never?_

He tries so hard to the point of exhaustion not to step over the line. He's a protector. Nothing more. He's _n_ _othing._

But when they sit close to him and touch him and look at him all starry eyed after he's saved them from a threat, that line gets blurred and he has to step back and check himself. He doesn't belong in between them. He belongs behind them, watching their backs.

And he can't even do that right now.

The fall off of the building was so haphazard that he ended up with a broken leg and a stab wound to the torso.

He feels so disgusted with himself for letting it happen. For letting the roles switch. Parker and Hardison have been waiting on him hand and foot no matter how much he protests. They're doing _his_ job. Taking away the meaning of _his_ life. It fucks with his head.

* * *

He doesn't have many rules, but the one about not fucking his crew has been tried and tested as of late.

He's seen the way Hardison looks at him. The heated looks when he thinks Eliot isn't paying attention. The way he steps just inside Eliot's personal space, touching him as much as he can get away with. He's noticed the way he and Parker whisper quietly about him.

Under normal circumstances, he'd never break that rule.

Under normal circumstances, Hardison wouldn't be trying to swallow Eliot's dick whole right now.

But as it turns out. Circumstances aren't normal. Being hopped up on pain killers always messes with his mind and he gets sloppy, which is why he tries to stay away from them as much as possible.

So when Hardison came over that night to help him out with whatever the fuck, of course he was a little skeptical. He coudn't trust his own instincts and he damn sure couldn't trust Hardison's intentions.

He'd noted the calculating look in Hardison's eyes when he'd held out his hand toward Eliot, two fat white pills in his palm. And then Eliot watched that look slowly morph in to muted excited pleasure when Eliot gives in, swiping the pills from Hardison's palm and swallows them dry.

Once the medicine starts to kick in and Eliot gets all hazy and pliant, Hardison starts to get a little more handsy, sitting pressed up against his side all night on the couch _pretending_ to watch the shitty Karate movie playing on the television. Finding any opportunity to touch him. A light squeeze on his thigh when he gets up to grab another beer. Carding his hands through Eliot's hair to check the shiner under his right eye. Rubbing his free hand up and down Eliot's bare torso while he cleans the stab wound beneath his ribcage.

Eliot feels himself shiver with each light touch even though he wills his body not to react to it. But those damn pills make his body stupid. He lets his head drop back to rest on the sofa and closes his eyes, distracts himself by going through a mental rolodex of all his sins while Hardison finishes up the bandages on his torso.

"Eliot..." He hears Hardison's voice low and desperate.

He'd been in a semi dream state but his senses immediately awaken when he hears his name. He lifts his head to find Hardison still kneeling between his spread legs. Bandages and alcohol wipes put back in the first aid kit on the table, and Hardison is very intensely eyeing the bulge of Eliot's dick pressing against his grey sweats.

Eliot has no idea what he'd been dreaming about but it must have been intense because damn. He reaches down and squeezes the base of his dick, trying to sit up, and back, away from Hardison's prying eyes.

"Shit." Eliot moans when his movements tug against the stitches in his side and he immediately goes limp again, huffing through his nose. "You all done patchin' me up?" He asks, his southern drawl more pronounced with him being under the influence.

Hardison chews on his bottom lip but doesn't respond. Eliot nudges him with his knee and Hardison startles. His eyes jumping to Eliot's.

The look on Hardison's face makes Eliot's stomach dip and roll and when he tries again to sit up, Hardison's hands find his hips and holds him still, careful not to disturb Eliot's injured leg propped up on the table.

Instead of answering Eliot's question, Haridson swallows audibly, looking up at Eliot through hooded eyes, and asks a question of his own. "Can I?"

Eliot's breath catches and his eyes almost roll up into his head. The pure _want_ and _love_ and _desire_ in Hardison's eyes is almost too much for him to look at.

He groans, runs one hand over his face trying to clear his head. "Hardison..." He says weakly in a parody of warning.

Hardison's eyes flash as he intently holds Eliot's eyes while he wraps his fingers around Eliot's wrist and tugs his hand away from his own dick, and Eliot's dick, the traitor, jumps.

"Come on, Eliot..." He whispers.

He watches as Eliot's tongue darts out licking his lips slowly. Then he blessedly, _blessedly_ relaxes back against the sofa, spreading his good leg wider so that Hardison fits more comfortably in the space.

He tugs at the waist of Eliot's pants and snakes his hand inside, freeing Eliot from his boxers. He strangles a whine in the back of his throat at the sight of it, thick and red.

Eliot hisses the moment Hardison's lips are on him, squirming under Hardison's weight in his lap. " _Fuck..."_

He feels it when he hits the back of Hardison's throat and Hardison swallows around him, over and over, moving his tongue back and forth over the vein on the base of him, bobbing his head up and down, slow...so slow.

It's all a mess of spilled confessions from there. Profanities tumble out of Eliot's mouth as Hardison works him over, moaning appreciatively as he takes care of his Hitter.

A startled gasp from across the room freezes them both and Hardison lifts up to find Parker standing in the open front doorway.

"Damn it." Eliot spits, pushing lightly at Hardison's shoulders but he refuses to budge.

A wicked grin spreads across Parkers lips as she drops her bags to the floor and swings the door shut before sauntering over to them, stripping out of her jacket and tshirt, leaving them in a pile on the floor.

"Yum." She purrs, sliding up next to Eliot on the sofa, tangling her fingers in his hair." Can I have some?"

"Eliot?" Hardison asks, opening his mouth again over Eliot's shaft.

Parker doesn't even wait for an answer, taking it upon herself to dive into Eliot's mouth, using her tongue to open him and he gives willingly, lets her taste his lips while Hardison swallows him down.

Time dwindles to nothing as they take turns with him. Tasting him and stroking him and driving him to complete and utter insanity.

On their last round, Parker ends up straddling Eliot, her knees digging into the couch cushions on either side of his hips, she rides him while Hardison stands next to the couch at their sides, buried in Parker's mouth.

Parker is freakishly good at multitasking. That's why she's the Mastermind now. She reduces them both to puddy as she handles them both. Working them slowly until she's milked them of everything they have to give.

After they've been cleaned up and fully sated, they end up cuddled together on the sofa, another shitty karate movie playing on the tv and Eliot wouldn't ask for a better recovery.

Under normal circumstances, Eliot wouldn't allow himself this kind of bliss...


End file.
